


tortuga amor (turtle love)

by thunderylee



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dirty spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12587196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Prompt: Kame is jealous of Jin knowing Spanish and Yuu teaches him some questionable phrases.





	tortuga amor (turtle love)

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Bienvenidos, Señor Kamenashi.”

Kame looks nervously around the room, feeling out of his comfort zone in Shirota’s apartment. There’s nothing wrong with the decor – although it is horribly obvious that two men with no interior decorating sense live here – it’s the unfamiliarity that has Kame on edge, along with the foreign language.

“Buenos… noches?” Kame tries, looking hopeful.

“Buen _a_ s noches,” Shirota corrects him, sweeping across the room to invite Kame to take a seat. “The night is female, like the moon. La noche y la luna.”

Kame nods. This whole gender thing is complicated, but he really wants to learn Spanish. Girls drop their panties when guys speak Spanish. If Jin can do it, so can Kame.

He takes a seat with his notebook and resolves to be a good student. For the cochinas. (He learned that one from Koki.)

The lesson lasts an hour and Shirota doesn’t sit down the entire time, pacing the room like a proper teacher and lecturing in a deep, authoritative voice. He explains the history of Spanish vocabulary and grammar to help Kame understand it better, and Kame has four pages of notes before his hand cramps and he just pushes a button on his phone to record the rest. Something about Shirota’s voice penetrates his brain anyway, so listening may be better than reviewing notes.

“Any questions?” Shirota asks at the end, his voice a little hoarse from speaking so much. Kame finds it more endearing that way.

“Actually, yes,” Kame says, trying to sounds as professional as he possibly can. “Are there any particular phrases I could use to impress women?”

Shirota grins widely, almost creepily as he gives Kame a knowing look and sits next to him on the couch. It’s a three-cushion couch and Kame is on one far end, but Shirota plops in the middle and leans back, spreading his legs comfortably and eyeing Kame like he knows a secret.

“If that’s all you wanted, I could have saved myself hours of lesson planning,” he says exasperatedly.

“No, no,” Kame protests, feeling guilty. “It was informative. It’s good to know what I’m actually saying when I use stock phrases.”

“Well, we haven’t really gone over grammar yet,” Shirota says, “but I could teach you a few.”

He slings an arm around Kame and Kame tenses, but Shirota doesn’t notice as he looks up at the ceiling. “Estás más bella que las estrellas en el cielo de la noche,” he drawls, the syllables rolling off of his tongue.

It sounds entirely too pleasant to Kame’s ears, and he shakes himself to attention and tries his best to repeat it. He probably fails miserably at the pronunciation, but Shirota is encouraging and writes it down in his notebook for him.

“It means ‘you are as beautiful as the stars in the night sky’,” Shirota says in Japanese, giving Kame a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s try a shorter one. Acércate.”

Kame almost shivers at the way Shirota rolls the R. “What does that mean?”

“Come close to me,” Shirota replies, and Kame has to resist the urge to do exactly that. They’re already close, thighs touching when Kame uncrosses his legs, and Kame thinks his entire purpose of learning Spanish in the first place isn’t even relevant anymore.

Now he just has another reason to do it. “How do you say ‘your voice is sexy’?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Tu voz es sexy,” Shirota answers promptly, meeting Kame’s eye with a questioning look. “And if you want her to whisper in your ear, you can say ‘susurrarme al oído’.”

That R has Kame jumping visibly, and he knows Shirota noticed it. “Thanks, that’s good to know,” he says, busying himself with his notebook and trying to write the words out how they sound.

Shirota covers Kame’s hand with his and guides him through the roman letters. It’s awkward because Shirota’s actually left-handed, but they manage and the back of Kame’s hand is warm from Shirota’s big palm. He’s a big guy, making Kame feel smaller than he already is, but the touch feels nice.

“Toma mi mano,” Shirota says, squeezing Kame’s hand for emphasis.

“Hold my hand?” Kame guesses.

“¡Muy bien!” Shirota declares, and Kame grins until he meets Shirota’s eyes. They look soft, gentle, like the giant who wouldn’t hurt a fly, and something inside Kame aches.

He clears his throat, trying to look haughty instead of nervous. “Anything else I should know?”

Shirota sees right through him. “Quiero besarte.”

Kame doesn’t know what that means, but he feels an urge to lick his lips. The second he’s done, Shirota’s on them. He gasps as he feels lips against his, that nose digging into his cheek, and Kame realizes that this is what he’s wanted since he first heard Shirota speak Spanish to him.

Clearly it works on men, too.

The pencil falls from Kame’s hand, the notebook sliding off his lap as Shirota urges him to turn, pulling his legs across his lap and wrapping his arms properly around Kame’s waist. Kame feels a little like a girl, but he can’t bring himself to mind and Shirota’s a good enough kisser to make him completely forget about gender roles.

“Quiero tocarte,” Shirota murmurs against his lips, and Kame doesn’t care what that means, he nods his permission.

Shirota’s hand slides under his shirt and explores the muscles of his back and chest, his pinky bumping a nipple and Kame gasps into his mouth. Not one to be outdone, Kame reaches for Shirota’s shirt and moves to pull it right over his head, which is followed by his own and Kame finds himself laid down on the couch with Shirota hovering over him.

He doesn’t say anything this time, just returns to Kame’s mouth and draws out Kame’s tongue with his own. It’s slow and heated and it makes Kame’s head spin, feeling Shirota’s hot skin under his fingers as they kiss. Shirota’s hands linger at Kame’s belt and Kame’s quick to follow, both pairs of jeans and underwear hitting the floor and leaving them completely nude to slide together from head to toe. His cock bumps Shirota’s and instantly it’s in Shirota’s big hand, pulling a groan from Kame’s lungs as he curls into Shirota’s intimate touch.

“Quiero estar dentro de ti,” Shirota whispers, his hand sliding down the back of Kame’s thigh. “I want to be inside you.”

Kame’s mind races; he doesn’t realize that he’s nodding until he feels Shirota’s groan throughout his whole body. Shirota pulls a tube out from under the couch and Kame has a pretty good idea what it is, his legs lifting on their own and spreading for Shirota’s lubed fingers. The first touch surprises him, but Shirota circles his rim a few times until he’s yearning for it, gasping into their kiss that deepens when Shirota eases his big finger inside him.

It’s a slow and tedious process, but Kame’s grateful for the careful preparation and distracts himself by stroking his own cock, mixing the awkward discomfort with pleasure until it all starts to feel good.

“Que rico,” Shirota breathes, dragging his lips down Kame’s jaw to his neck. “You look so hot doing that, Señor Kamenashi.”

Kame wants to tell him to just call him Kame, or even Kazuya, but the Spanish has him arching and Shirota can tell. He kisses his way up to Kame’s ear, inserts another big finger, and licks the lobe before speaking.

“Se siente bien,” Shirota whispers into his ear. “Muy, muy bien.”

The meaning doesn’t matter, the tone good enough and Kame moans out loud, rocking back against Shirota’s fingers and Shirota groans low in his throat.

“Quiero estar dentro de ti,” he says again, and Kame hears it like it’s in Japanese. “Déjame hacerlo por favor.”

Shirota wedges in a third finger and Kame already feels stretched to his limits, his hand on his own cock doing nothing to help him forget how big Shirota’s is. There’s no way it will fit, not without tearing him apart, and Shirota returns to his mouth as he withdraws his fingers.

“Relajate, amor,” he breathes between kisses, and it’s close enough for Kame to figure out.

Being called amor takes this to a whole new level, their kisses becoming more sensual as Kame hears Shirota put on a condom and lube himself. He tries to relax, tries not to be scared, but his hand falls from his cock and his teeth bite down on his bottom lip hard enough to puncture when Shirota pushes in.

Shirota mumbles something that Kame isn’t sure is any comprehensible language, panting into his skin and his arousal has Kame eager to feel more, his fear disappearing as Shirota fills him inside and pauses to let him adjust.

“Muevete,” Kame gasps, and Shirota looks impressed as he begins to move. One of Kame’s choreographers had been Latin American, so these are words with which he had become well acquainted. “Más rápido.”

He can’t roll his Rs at all, but Shirota follows orders anyway, thrusting into Kame and making him bounce underneath him on the couch. While Kame still feels like he’ll be torn apart, it’s a good feeling and he just lays back and enjoys it, moaning when Shirota pounds into him over and over.

“¿Te gusta?” Shirota asks through his harsh exhales and low groans.

“Me gusta,” Kame hisses, then switches to Japanese. “Touch me, please.”

Shirota drags his big hand down Kame’s chest and engulfs his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, and Kame quickly reaches the edge of his sanity. He trembles and cries out, his orgasm spilling hot over Shirota’s fingers and onto his own chest, and Shirota growls as he fucks him harder.

He comes with a choked moan, shuddering to a still on top of Kame, and Kame slowly regains feeling in his lower half as Shirota lowers his legs and rubs the muscles that will undoubtedly be sore in the morning.

Shirota kisses him again and smiles against his lips. “Gracias, amor.”

“Gracias, Papi,” Kame replies, grinning as Shirota’s face turns red and burrows into his neck. (Koki had taught him that one, too.)

Later, when Kame’s thinking back onto his extensive Spanish lesson and regretting writing down some of those more useful phrases before he left, he notices his phone is dead and remembers the recording.

He tries to catch them down the second time, but he’s too preoccupied just like before. Clearly he should just schedule another lesson.


End file.
